ke says； “It's cool； Mrs。 Loski。” He smiles at my dad and says； “We kept cruising
the Inter and the trades looking for a deal。
Everyone's blowing out their old analog gear for digital because that's the move everyone
else has made。 Digital； if you want to know our opinion； is
weak。 You lose too much of the waveform。 There's not enough fat to it； and obviously we like
it beefy。”
My granddad puts up a finger and says； “But a CD's digital； so…”
“Exactly； but that is the last and only step we'll promise on。 It's just a necessity of being
part of the industry。 Everyone wants CDs。 But the
multitrack and the mixdown to two…track is analog。 And we could afford it； Mr。 Loski； because
we got used gear and we've been saving up our
pennies since we were twelve years old。” He grins and says； “You still play？ We could； you
know； lay down some of your tunes if you want。”
My dad looks down； and for a second I couldn't tell if he was going to get mad or cry。 Then
he sort of snorts and says； “Thanks； but that's not me
anymore。”
Which was probably the only honest thing my dad said all night。 After that he was quiet。 He'd
try to plaster up a smile now and then； but man；
underneath it he was broody。 And I was feeling kind of bad for him。 Was he thinking about
the good old days playing in a band？ I tried picturing him
in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat； with a g